


Tales from another broken home

by LlewellyenAnChaisleainDubh



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Abusive Parents, Belfast, Drug Use, M/M, Northern Ireland, Punk, Teenagers, Terrorism, The Troubles, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:20:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1672784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LlewellyenAnChaisleainDubh/pseuds/LlewellyenAnChaisleainDubh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 1990s in Belfast, Northern Ireland: Growing up in the shadow of the peace walls and a usual drunk father made Sebastian to a rebellious teenager. As Protestant he lives in the Shankill Road neighbourhood, where he also goes to school. One day he starts a fight with another boy in school, the boy ended with a broken nose, so Sebastian get flunked from school. Instead of coming to another prod-school he is damned to go to the school of Falls Road, where he meets James Moriarty, no, not the future criminal mastermind, his brother. Their friendship is full of experiments, alcohol, drugs, music and the first sexual experiences, until James' little brother Jimmy catches them. Jimmy is the good boy, but very soon Sebastian finds out that the rumours that Jimmy killed a boy in London could be very true. Against the wish of James Jimmy and Sebastian finds themselves in a relationship, that is full of drugs and violence until Jimmy vanishes and Sebastian joins the British Army. </p>
<p>Political and homophobic opinions are the opinions of the characters and not mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prisons

**Author's Note:**

> Although I do a lot of research a few things can be wrong or just unrealistic (you know artistic freedom), I'm apologising for every mistake I make/made. Thanks goes to my beta nitininha and the gang that thought the idea wasn't that bad and of course to all readers, who will maybe read it.

**Chapter 1: Prisons**

The fingers around the neck dug in his skin. They would leave marks, marks he couldn't hide. Not that anyone would care when they would see them. Everyone ignored the bruises on Sebastian's skin. When the doctor had asked once how Sebastian had gotten a sprained wrist and the boy had answered honestly, the doctor had told his father, but not the police or anyone. It had been a horrible night for Sebastian.

 

“You get me some whiskey, fag, okay?” Augustus Moran growled in his son’s ear. “No detour to get make-up for your princess-face or one of your faggot-records, yes?”

 

Sebastian nodded. His father liked to pretend he wouldn't know the rules: No music in the house, no make-up. But rule one was the most important one: When Sebastian came from school he had to go to the next liquor shop where the salesclerk sold alcohol to him too, although he was just 14 years old.

 

Finally Augustus let Sebastian go, who grabbed his bag before he ran out of the house. Not until he was outside and had closed the door did he notice that he hadn't breathed, so he breathed the fresh air of Belfast in December. Their house was next to the _peace wall_ , a barbed wire fence that separated the Shankill Road from the Falls Road neighbourhood. 1969 Protestant people burnt down almost the whole Shankill Road, where lived mostly Catholics. Politicians had decided the _peace wall_ would keep the peace between the enemy groups. It should have been a temporary solution, but now it stood for 22 years, it was older than Sebastian and even the 14 years old boy wasn't naïve enough to believe that it would change in his lifetime.

 

The _peace wall_ was another prison. Everywhere where Sebastian went there were prisons. Home he was a prisoner of his father, who hit him for every little thing he did wrong, at his sister's place he was a prisoner of her motherly love that he didn't want and in school... In school he was a prisoner of the teachers, who thought that for his _lies_ (when he told someone his father was the reason why he had so many bruises) he had to be punished. His classmates were pretty boring. Learning, learning, learning, _be nice to the teachers, Sebastian, or they aren't nice to you_ , blah.

 

He took off the tie of his school uniform just to tie a scull tie around his neck. He rebelled whenever he could, and this fucking school uniform was the worst. It was a prison that he had to wear almost every day. It made him sick, so he changed it, always different. Sometimes he used a tie like today, sometimes with red anarchy-As on it or skulls like today. On other days he ripped his trousers and then his father had to pay him new pants from his army pension. It satisfied Sebastian in ways no one could imagine when the money that was for alcohol for his father went into his uniform. It was worth the new bruises.

 

Sebastian pulled out the eyeliner pencil his sister had bought him. With practised hand he drew dark rings under his eyes. Augustus would be furious when he would see it. After that he went slowly in the direction of the Belfast Boys' Model School. He saw a few of his classmates, but they ignored him like he ignored them. It made all their lives easier.

 

While most of them were normal guys, he had fallen in love with punk a while ago. No one judged you for bruises because everyone was kind of destructive in the punk scene. Also the whole prods-Catholic-talk wasn't important there. Most in his age were tired of the fight, of being soldiers on the one or the other side, of losing family members.

Finally Sebastian saw the school.

 

~Φ~

 

Sometimes Sebastian made mistakes, although he knew what would happen. Today had gone more or less normal, the teacher had complained about his tie and the make-up, but didn't say any more. Probably gave up, but then was lunch break and Sebastian felt this itching. He knew the feeling; he knew nothing good would follow.

 

And then this guy made eye contact with him. This kind of guy who repelled him like he could think: Nice, decent, not to mention the babyface. The idiot didn't look away from Sebastian's arms, who had rolled up the sleeves so everyone could see the latest bruises. Said one could feel the corners of his mouth twitching before he stood up slowly to walk to the guy.

 

“Wanna know where they come from?” Sebastian asked with his Belfast-accent.

The boy’s pupils widened. Sebastian guessed he was older than him. 15, maybe 16, but smaller than him. Weak. A coward.

 

The taller boy grinned. He knew how he looked when he smiled. Like a shark. His teeth were white and like a military cemetery, his jaw was yet well-defined.

 

“Answer me, boy.”

The boy looked to his friends, but they didn't seem like they wanted to help, but Sebastian hoped they would, so he turned his attention to them.

“What is with you, don't wanna help?”

Scared faces.

He laughed before he turned the face to the first boy again. Still no reaction. “Okay, are you death?”

The boy shook the head. Slightly.

“Stupid.”

Again shaking the head.

“So why aren't you answering to me? Am I Catholic? Too stupid for you? Oh, probably I am, just a fucking bloke from the working class, aye?”

“N-... no!”

“Don't lie to me!”

“N... I don't.”

“Aye, you did, didn't he?” Sebastian turned his face again to the boy’s friends, who were so scared that they nodded. Fucking cowards. “So you called me a fucking bloke, right? Because I'm from the working class, aye?” He raised his voice. “Think you are better than me, hm? Better than all of us! Oh, did you just call me an idiot?!”  
  
Of course he didn't but anyway Sebastian punched him in the face. With the power of the impact with Sebastian's fist, the boy fell to the ground. Someone screamed, but Sebastian didn't listen. He already kicked the lying bastard. In his ears rushed the blood, his own laugher filled the whole room, while the guy on the ground was whimpering, wincing, trying to protect his head. Still no one stopped Sebastian, who grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck. He pulled him back on his feet before he pressed him on the table. Something pressed against his pants, but Sebastian ignored that when he punched the other boy in the face. Blood. He saw blood running from the nose, but he couldn't stop himself.

 

Others did for him. Taller bodies, stronger bodies and, God, he fought against them.

 

~Φ~

 

“How shall I tell that, Pa?”

He shrugged, lighting a cigarette, which he gave to Elizabeth before he also lit another for himself. “I don't care.”

“Sebby...”

“No, don't call me like that. I... just don't care, you understand?”

 

And it was the truth. He felt too good to care about- what his father would say to him because he was flunked from school. In fact he was happy because of it. Happy because it would make his father angry and because it excited him... This sweet kind of violence... The blood...

 

“Also you don't have the time for it,” he told her when she was still looking at him like that.

“But -”

He broke in on her with a movement of his hand. “No, it's okay... I'm okay, it will be okay.”

She didn't seem sure, but she knew he was too stubborn to ask further.


	2. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course it has to be a school for Catholics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably this chapter is totally unrealistic, but well, artistic freedom, also the idea wouldn't work out if it wasn't a little bit unrealistic. Thanks goes to nitininha for correcting the text, cubby, because I can ask her question about the British education system (as a German I'm totally confused about it) and to the rest of the gang and all the other readers. I hope you have fun.

**Chapter 2: Punishment**

Sebastian had known that he couldn't pretend that he was still going to school forever. The last three days he had left the house, dressed in his uniform, in the morning, but of course he didn't go to school. He met a few friends, a few of them had skipped school for a day or more, others hadn't gone to school since one or two months. Mostly they smoked weed, talked about music, politics and how fucked up everything was in their city. This Friday they had drunk a few tins beer, although no one of them was older than 17. So, when Sebastian walked home, he didn't go very straight anymore, but no one cared. Why changing a running system, right? 

 

When he opened the door, he could already feel that something was wrong. After years with his father Sebastian knew exactly when something really bad was going to happen. The air felt kind of thick and it was too quiet. Sebastian got goosebumps from that, but before he could turn around to leave the flat again, his father already grabbed him.

 

“You fucking shit!” Augustus Moran yelled, pulling his son at his hair to the living room. He threw Sebastian to the ground, a few inches away from the coffee table out of massive wood. Sebastian caught himself thinking that this could have cost his life and, God, wouldn't that be nice? But of course life went on. It always does. Augustus' feet met Sebastian's ribs under thin skin. The boy was growing too fast, no fat in him, everything went into his height, so there was no cushion. It fucking hurt.

 

Sebastian rolled on his stomach to protect the most sensitive parts of his body. He hid his face, hoping it would be over soon. Tears were running down his cheeks. Fuck, he was so weak. 

 

“Do you know that no school wanna take you? Do you know why? Because you are a fucking piece of shit!” He felt drops of saliva on his body or was he imaging that? “But a fucking Irish school would take you! Irish, Sebastian! Do you know what I mean? A school where the people speak Irish, a school for fucking Catholics! Republicans!”

 

Ah, that was the reason. Of course. Sebastian had hoped his father would be too drunk to understand what was written in the letter or that he was fallen asleep already, but of course not. So he could just wait until it was over. He was still too weak to fight back. Too weak, too stupid, too angry. Everything in him was disgusting and bad and not like it should be. Sometimes he wondered if it was because he had killed his mother the day he was born. His father had said it so. That she would be still alive, if Sebastian weren't. Probably he was right.

 

It seemed like it took ages until Augustus stopped. He flipped a cigarette in Sebastian's face, who slapped out of his face as fast as he could, so it couldn't burn his skin. There were enough scars on his body, but the movement needed all energy he could find. Then he just rolled on his body, staring at the ceiling. Augustus was somewhere in the kitchen. Probably on the search for whiskey or beer or anything else that contained alcohol. Hopefully it was poisonous. 

 

Suddenly Sebastian wanted to smoke, so he pulled out the package from his pocket, getting a cigarette from it and the lighter and lit one for himself. Still staring at the ceiling he smoked. The ash fell on the carpet, but that wasn't that bad. No one in this flat complained about that since Elizabeth had moved out. 

 

~Φ~

 

Since Sebastian could remember it had been  _the fucking Catholics_ or  _the fucking Republicans_ or something like that in their flat, in the whole Shankill Road neighbourhood to be more correct. Anyway he made his way to the  _peace wall_ this Monday to get to the  Coláiste Feirste. 

 

The school was founded just this year, except from him 9 other pupils went to it; every one of them probably spoke Irish better than English and it scared the shit out of him. He had learned Irish in his old school, too, but he didn't feel ready for a Gaelscoil, not to forget that his father would hate it, when he would learn Irish in their house. 

 

Although he was very angry with Sebastian and with this school he agreed that Sebastian should go to it. Because “Sebastian needed to graduate for the army”. Of course it was because of this fucking shit. 

 

The new uniform felt too tight when he came to one of the ways between Shankill and Falls Road neighbourhood. The soldiers nodded at him when he passed the gate and then he ran through the Falls Road, scared that a Catholic could notice the fucking prod in their street. He ran so fast that he couldn't stop when he ran into a boy in his age. 

 

The Catholic boy was wearing the same uniform as Sebastian and watched him from the head to the feet. It made Sebastian uncomfortable how the black eyes followed his slender body until they saw him straight in the eyes.

 

“You are the prod, aye?” The boy asked. A Belfast-accent, just like Sebastian's. 

“Are you going to call me like that, asshole?” Sebastian replied, his chin forward to the little fucker.

The Catholic laughed. “Na, not happy with you guys, but you are just a kid.”

“So are you.”

The boy winked at him. “James. James Moriarty. Not Jim, or Jimmy, James.”

“Sebastian Moran, my sister and friends also call me Sebby or Bastian,” Sebastian introduced himself.

James moved his head down the street. “So we can go to school.”

“I would rather not, but my Pa would kill me,” he said like it would be a joke, but something in James' eyes told him that the other boy noticed his limping. Still the pain from the punishment on Friday. 

“Yeah, my one would kill me, too,” James smiled slightly.

 

In silence the boys went together down the street, although Sebastian always looked around him. Although he gave a fuck about the whole conflict, he knew that he was an enemy for all people who lived here. Except James maybe, who looked almost too relaxed. Did Sebastian accidentally step into a trap or the Catholics? 

 

“Relax,” James said while he was lighting himself a cigarette, from what the smell bore a suspicious resemblance to weed. That would explain why James was so stress-free. “As long as you are with other Catholics no one would think that you are a fucking prod. Anyway, how's your Irish?”

“It's okay, I guess. Not sure that I can understand the lessons in a Gaelscoil though.”

“You learned Irish in school?” James gave Sebastian his cigarette, who took a drag before he gave it back to the Catholic. Aye, definitely weed. 

“Made my father mad,” Sebastian laughed.

“I can only imagine,” James grinned before he turned his attention to a boy in the same uniform as them, but two or three years younger than them. “Don't tell, Ma that you saw me smoking, okay, Jimmy?”

The little guy (he was really small and slender) didn't turn his face, just gave James the finger.

The older boy laughed. “My brother, a fucking genius, the good kid, you understand? In my father's eyes I'm the soldier and Jimmy there is the heir.”

“Jimmy?”

“Yeah, Jimmy. James Isaac Moriarty. Dunno why our parents gave us both the same first name. It's fucking annoying. So we started to call him Jimmy and me James.”

“Makes sense,” Sebastian answered thoughtfully before he got the cigarette of James back to take another drag. 

“Not really.”

Both boys laughed.


	3. Brats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some rumours could be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter is a mistake on purpose (and because Jimmy is a fucking genius). Anyway thanks to nitininha for correcting the text, the gang for being awesome and all the readers (especially moriartys--fairytale because she would give me advice/help if I had questions about Northern Ireland).

**Chapter 3: Brats**

In his old school Sebastian had been an outsider because he didn't care about religion, about the state or someone's roots. He was ignored by eight out of nine of his new classmates because he was a Protestant. The only one who didn't seem to care about it was James. And James was who coached Sebastian in Irish, because he spoke it fluently. In the Moriarty-household everyone spoke Irish, James told him. English was just acceptable to learn because it was necessary. So the two boys spent their afternoons with talking in Irish.

 

First they learned on the street, because Sebastian's father would never let in a Catholic. James' father was a little bit softer. He wasn't happy after all, that his son got “a bad political influence from a prod,” but after a while he allowed Sebastian to come with James home. And the first time Sebastian tried to make a good impression at a friend's parents. He greeted James Isaac Moriarty senior (in this family too many men were called James, he thought, but never said it) in Irish and said goodbye in the same language. 

 

In fact it was surprisingly easy to be nice to Mr and Mrs Moriarty. Mrs Moriarty was the kind of mother who always came in asking if the boys wanted something to drink or eat. James was annoyed by it, but Sebastian who had never had a mother felt strangely be mothered by her. A good feeling. Mr Moriarty was a quiet man with dark eyes like his boys (Janine, James' little sister, had brighter eyes, more like their mother's). They were almost black, and when they looked at you, you felt a natural respect for this man, and he didn't even need to strike out to hit you. 

 

Sebastian felt very comfortable at James'. Mostly. When he stayed for dinner (which just happened in summer because at sundown the gates in the peace walls were closed and the stone throwing began) it was very strange. Janine was four years younger than James and Sebastian and very sweet. She didn't talk much, James explained that she was very shy, and so didn't Jimmy.   
  
Jimmy was one year and a few months younger than Sebastian, and in the same class as them because he skipped two years. He really was a fucking genius, but that didn't make Sebastian comfortable with him. Jimmy had the same dark eyes as his brother and father, but they were... different. Kind of dead. And when he looked at Sebastian, Sebastian felt naked and empty at the same time, like Jimmy could see everything, could see how violent Sebastian was, that nothing made him happier than seeing blood. At the same time, it didn't seem like Jimmy judged him for it. 

 

The day Sebastian found out why, he lay on the ground of James' room while James was lying on his bed. It was autumn 1992. They were listening to the song  _Alternative Ulster_ from the Stiff Little Fingers, a song both of their fathers hated, but the boys didn’t give a fuck. It didn't take long to understand that they both loved the same music. Unfortunately CDs of some bands weren't sold in the Catholic areas (because they were British), so Sebastian bought sometimes two CDs and got the money back from James. 

 

Anyway. “You know what they say about Jimmy, don't you?” James asked after a while. 

“They are talking about him? Why? He is fucking boring,” Sebastian answered. It wasn't true, but it was the thing that James always said about his little brother, who loved classic music and BeeGees and shit like that.

“Well, he was in London, '89. With his swimming team.”  
“Well, and?”  
“A boy died.”  
Sebastian sat up. “How?”  
“Got an epileptic seizure or something, drowned.”  
“And? Shit happens. Doesn’t have to do with your bother, does it?”  
James shrugged. “He laughed about Jimmy, some of the team say Jimmy had smiled.”The other boy laughed nervously. “That's just a rumour, James. Do you know what they say about us?”

 

But he didn't believe it. He remembered Jimmy's black dead eyes. It gave him goosebumps, but still... Jimmy had been...10? 11 maybe? How could a boy this age kill another one and no one notice it? It was impossible! Sebastian was sure it was. Still... there was this feeling.

 

James laughed. “Yeah, you are right. Why keep people talking about it? I mean, aren't there more important things?” He leaned from his bed to Sebastian. “But what are they talking about us?”  
Sebastian shrugged. “A lot of the things they are talking about are true,” he explained. “You know, that we are anarchists...”  
“Urgh, nations, rules, laws. Boooooring,” James sing-sang.

“...that we drink...”

“The little bit beer and the whiskey you steel sometimes from your father. Pffft.”

“...and that we smoke weed.”

“That are no rumours, Sebby, that's the truth.”  
“Yeah, but there are rumours which aren't.”  
“Tell me.”  
“You don't wanna hear them.”  
“Please.”  
“Believe me.”  
“Sebbyyyyyyyyy,” James begged.

“Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you.”  
“Yeah, yeah, tell me!”  
“They say the only reason why a Catholic and a prod spend their time together is because they shag.”  
“Oh.” James said, then silence, but of course James had to fuck around because of it. He put forth his hand, dangerously close to this space between Sebastian's ear that no one was allowed to touch.

The protestant jumped away from him. “Fuck you, James.”

“In front of you? Give them more reasons to talk?” The smile on Sebastian's friend's lips meant danger.

 

James climbed from his bed, standing up in front of Sebastian who leaned against the wall of the small room. No way out. His friend sat down between his cocked legs, leaning forward. 

 

“I'm not gay,” Sebastian stammered.

“Neither am I,” James replied, still with this dangerous grin. “But we can experiment a little bit.”  
“You are mental.”  
“So are you.”  


Against his words, Sebastian didn't fight back when James kissed him. He didn't slap away the hand that lay down at his knee, but he closed his eyes, hoping it would be over soon, but then he felt James tongue at his lips, which he opened automatically. Their bodies were so closed that he could feel his friend shaking. It wasn't a good kiss. Both of them had no experience with it, but still... it felt kind of nice when James tongue explored Sebastian's mouth. Sebastian tasted James, the taste of cigarettes and the orange juice James' mother had brought them before. He found himself wondering if he tasted the same, but when James' tongue touched his. It made Sebastian shiver. Automatically, he grabbed James' neck, pulling him closer to him. 

 

It felt like he needed more. More of James. He wanted his friend pressed against him, rocking his hips against the other's one. A very quiet voice in the back of his head told him that he wasn't gay, but the rest screamed: “Shut the fuck up!” 

 

James crawled closer and finally! Finally their hips were pressed at each other. Something hard rocked against Sebastian's crotch and the heat that had been in his head before ran down. Sebastian separated their lips, because he couldn't breathe anymore. He turned his head to gasp a breath. James saw that as an invitation to kiss Sebastian's neck, obviously. The lips wandered down Sebastian's jaw and stopped at his pulse, where James sucked the sensitive skin, bit into it, before he licked about it. His hands wandered from Sebastian's legs to his hair. The nails scratched his scalp at this sweet point behind his ears, and it brought the Protestant back to his mind. 

 

He pressed his friend away from him. “I... I think I should go, James,” he stammered, getting up.

James just stared at him irritated while Sebastian grabbed his bag. 

“We... We'll see tomorrow in school!” With that words Sebastian ran out of the room, down the steps to the corridor.

 

He heard someone playing piano in the living room. Jimmy probably, but it stopped when he walked down the stairs with heavy steps. The younger boy stood in the door between corridor and living room, staring at Sebastian while he got into his shoes.

 

“You liked it,” the boy said like it was just an ordinary statement, nothing more.

Sebastian, just half way into his right shoe, stared back. “You know it?”  
“He planned it for days, I could see it in his eyes.” Jimmy's eyes wandered down to Sebastian's crotch. “And I see you liked it because of this.” Smiling he pointed at Sebastian's erection under the fabric of his trousers. 

“Please... don't tell anybody,” Sebastian found himself begging.

Jimmy still smiled. “If you are visiting me too, sometimes.”


	4. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian is trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm totally in love with kid!Jim, he is a dangerous cutie, but anyway. Thanks goes of course to nitininha, to the gang and to all the other readers. I hope you have fun with that.

**Chapter 4: Alive**

Jimmy took a drag from his cigarette when Sebastian came to the hidden place of their school. The black eyes followed the movements of the older boy like the eyes of a predator in its prey. Sebastian would like to smash Jimmy's head against the wall until he was dead.

 

The younger boy clicked with the tongue. “Don't you dare to think that,” he said with this cold voice and the accent of a BBC-reporter. Jimmy could sound very different. He changed his accent from Belfast to the one from London in seconds. Sometimes his movements changed with it, sometimes they didn't. When he would be older, he could be an actor or something.

“Don't pretend you know what I think.”

Jimmy grinned. “I can hear you thinking, baby.”

“I don't believe you,” Sebastian replied, folding his arms in front of his chest.

“You just thought that you could smash my head against the wall until I'm dead.” Jimmy laughed about the surprised look on Sebastian's face. “Don't underestimate me, Moran.”

He pushed off the wall, walking to the Protestant. Sebastian avoided his eyes with looking to the side. Again Jimmy clicked with his tongue, an unspoken command and without thinking Sebastian looked back at him.

 

Jimmy smiled. “You'll be a great little soldier,” he sing-sang.

“What do you want from me?” Sebastian looked straight into his eyes now.

“Patience, patience, darling, we wanna have fun, don't we?”

“No, you wanna have fun, I wanna leave.”

“You aren't like the other friends of my brother.”

Sebastian shrugged. “Protestant, forgot?”

“I never forget anything.” Again a simple statement, no arrogance. “But... no, that's not what I mean. I know about this story, why you changed schools. Broke another boy’s nose, hit a teacher unconscious... I'm impressed. And a little bit worried. You are quite of a trouble maker, aren't you?”

“Do you want me to step back from your brother?”

Jimmy laughed. “Oh God, no! Don't be so obvious, I know you are cleverer than that.”

“So, what do you want?”

“You like violence, don't you?”

“Let me guess, you know already?”

“Haha! Good! I’m starting to really like you, maybe I should keep you.”

“I'm not yours.”

“Of course you are. I have your testicles. Metaphorically spoken.”

“I thought you were the good boy. You shouldn't be around someone like me,” Sebastian smiled.

“You know I'm not the good one. You know about little Carl.”

“So it's true.”

“What do you think?” Jimmy stood in front of him, just a few inches between them.

“I'm not sure,” Sebastian answered honestly.

“And maybe you'll never be.” Jimmy smiled. “Anyway! There's this boy. Naughty, little brat. Thinks it's funny to mock me, because I'm so small.”

“And?”

“Aaaaaand I want _you_ making him suffer for that.”

“Why should I do that?”

Jimmy stepped even closer. His right hand lay down at Sebastian's crotch. The taller boy panted for air. “Because I know what you like. I could scratch the sweet point between your ears...”

 

Sebastian felt like an insect in the web of a spider.

 

~Φ~

 

He should feel more uncomfortable with the situation. His fist met the face of the stupid guy for the... sixth or... seventh time? Blood stuck everywhere in the face of the other guy and he looked like he was unconscious. Sebastian let him fall to the ground when he heard steps behind him in the small alley. Fast he turned around, sure it was someone who shouldn't see him.

 

But there he stood. He was small, slender, pale and with a creepy smile on his lips. And fuck, no one ever looked so damn good and at the same time he was still so young.

 

“Good boy,” Jimmy Moriarty said while he was walking to Sebastian. Both boys ignored the other one at the ground. “Come home, I’ll take care of your hands.”  
Sebastian nodded, because he couldn't trust his voice.

 

Jimmy turned around, walking away and Sebastian followed.

 

~Φ~

 

“Put them in the water.” Jimmy's voice was almost soft.

 

Sebastian stared into the bowl with the tepid water before he put his hands in it. It fucking hurt and he wanted to get them out again, but suddenly Jimmy stood in front of him, grabbing his wrist. The older boy couldn't free his hands, so they were still in the water, which coloured pink from his blood slowly.

 

“How was it?” Jimmy asked excited.

“Good,” Sebastian replied with a croaky voice. He felt the black eyes on his face, but he was still staring at his hands in the bowl, at Jim's fingers that would leave marks on his skin. It hurt. His bloody (literally) knuckles, Jim's grab, but he didn't think that was bad. He kind of liked it.

“Would you do it again?”

Finally Sebastian looked up. He blinked, thinking about it. Jimmy already knew the answer, he could see it in his smile, but anyway the taller boy nodded.

“Brilliant!” Jimmy leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on Sebastian's lips.

 

It felt different than with James. Maybe because it was so quick, but Sebastian felt this little shock. A good shock, really. And when he looked in Jimmy's black eyes, he felt strangely comfortable; his anger was quiet for the first time in forever.

 

“I could make you feel like that every day,” Jim smiled and, God, Sebastian wanted to believe him. “And if you are working for me, I will. Now you should go. The sunset is soon.”

 

He gave Sebastian a towel for his hands before Sebastian finally went.

 

~Φ~

 

When he came to the gate between the Falls Road and Shankill Road neighbourhood the soldiers just wanted to close them. They didn't look happy when they saw him, but he apologised for being so late and they let him out. A few people already stood in front of the wall, stones in their hands. Stone throwing would begin soon and he shouldn't be there then.

 

His head felt strangely light when he nodded at the guys, who looked at him like he had any infectious illness, but he didn't care. He was so damn alive. When he walked to his house, he was humming _Alternative Ulster_.


	5. Aunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian has a guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I really have nothing to say just the usually thanks: Thanks goes to nitininha for correcting my stories, the gang for being awesome and all the other readers. Have fun.

**Chapter 5: Aunt**

When Sebastian came home this day, he saw the car of his aunt Katherine, called Kathy. Kathy didn't come often, mostly because her brother, Augustus, accused her for being a traitor.

 

As a teenager Kathy had met the Catholic boy Patrick. She had been shopping for her sick mother when the bag with her grocery had ripped. Patrick, the good boy, had come to her to help. He had been two years older and according to Kathy he had been handsome. Kathy had told the story to Elizabeth a few times while Sebastian had been around. Sebastian's grandma had been too sick already to be angry with her daughter, although her husband died in an attack from the Catholics. It had been Augustus, her younger brother, who had bullied her until she left her home forever when she was just 16 years old. She moved in with Patrick although that had been a big scandal in his family and neighbourhood. They hadn't been married and she had been a prod, but when she had been 18, she had converted to the Catholic religion. Meanwhile she was married with Patrick for ages; they had seven kids and lived in Short Strand, a Catholic neighbourhood. 

 

Sebastian opened the door to the house, in that he and his father were living. He already heard the yelling from their flat in the first floor. Rolling his eyes, he took the closely spaced stairs. His shoes were kicked on the edge next to the door to their flat before he opened it. 

 

Kathy had heard him and suddenly it was quiet. Her head appeared at the door to the living room, looking who had come there, although she had already known it probably. 

 

“Sebastian!” She called her nephew, who jerked at her loud, but warm voice. Not a minute later he found himself in a hug, her lips pressed a kiss on his cheek. The boy felt that her lipstick stuck on his skin, but he couldn't free himself.

 

Kathy didn't look like her brother, not really. She was...well, the six pregnancies (once she gave birth to twins) had left their marks. Not that she was fat, no, she was normal, while her brother was very slender from less eating and more drinking. Her round face looked younger than his; that was branded from cheap alcohol. But all born Morans had the same eyes. Bright blue, a little bit like the water that you saw in telly sometimes. But even there was a difference between the siblings. Kathy's eyes glowed full of life, while Augustus' were blunt and dead. Just the dark blond hair was the same, well, more or less (Kathy's was long of course, Augustus' short). 

 

Finally she let Sebastian go, whose nose was tickling from the smell of her sweet perfume. The last times she had been there, he had been at James' or was somewhere else, so he hadn't had the chance to tell her about the new school yet. It looked like she wouldn't get the chance now either.   
  
When she stepped a little bit back from him, she saw his hands. Her eyes widened in shock. “What happened, Sebastian?” She asked in a strict tone. 

“A Catholic boy said something...about ma.” The lie came from his lips and he didn't even batter an eye. 

The corner of her mouth jerked, but then she laid an arm around his shoulders before she turned to her brother. “I'm talking with your son in the kitchen, Augustus.”

 

He answered with a shrug and she pulled Sebastian to the kitchen, where she pushed him on one of the three chairs around the little table before she made tea for both of them. While the kettle was working, she filled a bowl with water, just like Jimmy had done. Automatically he put his hands into the water. They didn't speak, so Sebastian could enjoy the water around his wounded knuckles. When the tea was ready, she sat down on the other side of his table, watching him. The door to the corridor was closed.

 

“How is school?” She asked softly.

He smiled slightly. “Almost better than the old one. At the beginning it was hard because of the language, but a classmate, James, gave me private lessons in Irish.”

“Oh, good, good. I was scared you wouldn't find friends.”

Sebastian laughed quietly because he also remembered Jimmy. “No, it's okay.”

“You look good, are you getting enough food?”

“Yeah, I'm in the afternoons at James' and his mother always makes something to eat. She is nice.”

“And did you hear something from Elizabeth?”

“Didn't you ask pa?” 

She shrugged. “I did, but I hoped she had written to you...”

“No,” Sebastian answered, staring in the air. 

 

Since Elizabeth had joined the British Army in January, she hadn't gotten in touch with him. James and school had distracted Sebastian from thinking about it. And to be honest he had been happy about it. Elizabeth had always been there and now it was like she had never existed. He was hurt to be honest, he missed his older sister. 

 

He cleared his throat. “I guess she has just forgotten it.” Although he smiled, he knew Kathy could see the pain. 

She smiled at him with sympathy.

“What's going on in the Catholic part of our family?” He changed the subject completely.

“The usual,” she laughed, “Mary can't wait to go to school, Eoin is happy that he is out of it, the twins make their teachers see red, Bobby... Bobby is a quiet boy, you know, nice and decent, Grace started to be interested in boys and Liam is dating a girl from the neighbourhood, not sure that it works out though... Maybe you should come over for the weekend.”

“Sorry, maybe next week.”

“Plans?”

“Aye.”

 

Actually Sebastian had plans. A friend, well... a guy he knew from the Belfast punk scene would make a house party. Sebastian had decided to go with James, getting him more in the scene (the punk scene in the Falls Road neighbourhood was quiet, small and boring). They would sleep at the floor of the guy's flat, not noticing how hard it was because they would be too drunk and high. That was the plan. It was a good plan. 

 

Still he wouldn't mind seeing his cousins again. Mary, the little one (she always called him Sebseb since she had tried to call him with his first name), had been 3, when he had seen her the last time. Now she was 5. He was totally in love with her, with her little hands and feet, her smile. She was the sweetest kid he had ever known (of course he knew that was familiar sentiment, but still). 

 

“Good, then next week. You can sleep at our place, just on the couch but... probably it's even better than your mattress on the ground.”

“You were in my room again.”

“The money is at the usual place.”

 

Whenever Kathy came to visit Sebastian and his father, she left money for him, hiding it in the CD jewel case of the CD version of  _Never mind the Bollocks_ of the Sex Pistols. Years ago she had given it to Augustus, who hadn't given it to Sebastian and whenever Augustus had seen how she had given his son the money he threatened and hit Sebastian until the boy gave him the money. 

 

“Don't spend all of it in cigarettes, alcohol and other drugs – no, don't try to convince me that you don't smoke weed. Your whole room smells like it.”

He sulked. 

“I hoped a little bit that the Catholic kids would have a better influence on you.”

Sebastian thought about James, who always had a little bit of weed, and Jimmy, who just made him hit a boy unconscious. “I wouldn't say that they have a bad influence on me.”

She gave him a soft slap. “For your information, I won't let you in my house if you aren't sober, okay?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Good.”


	6. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parties are great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, here you have underage drinking (smoking we had before), these kids nowadays (I'm younger than Sebastian but anyway~). Thanks goes to nitininha (what are surprise!), because she corrected the text, the gang for being awesome and all of you my dear readers. I hope you have fun!

**Chapter 6: Party**

The soldiers didn't look happy when Sebastian picked up James from the gate that evening. When a prod went to the Catholic neighbourhood without getting hurt, it was okay, but when an Irish boy came into the British neighbourhood it made them nervous. Probably they thought James, who was just 15, would come to kill some loyalists. 

 

Sebastian ignored them, nodding at James as a greeting. The other boy replied with the same gesture.

 

“What did you tell your parents?” Sebastian asked when they walked to Allan's (that was the guy who threw the party) house. 

James shrugged. “That your father finally allows me to come to you and that we celebrate that with a sleepover. Not sure that my father believed that though. What did you tell yours?”

“My father never cares where I go. Maybe he hopes that I vanish completely.”

“He can be so adorable.”

Sebastian laughed. “If you wanna call it so.”

“You never told me where your mother is.”

Suddenly Sebastian's smile dropped. “Do you wanna have the priest or my answer?”

“Yours.”

“I killed her when she gave birth to me.”

“Oh.”

"Yeah, well, shit happens.”

“I'm sorry.”

“There's no need for it. Never knew her.”

 

The rest of the way they walked in silence.

 

~Φ~

 

Allan was 18, two heads taller than Sebastian and his hugs could break bones. And he loved to hug people. James looked like he thought the same when Allan hugged him after he had hugged Sebastian.

 

“You must be the Catholic friend! Cool that you could come. I'm Allan.”

“James,” James answered gasping for breath.

“Got us some beer,” Sebastian grinned. “Kitchen?”

Allan nodded.

 

The room was pretty colourful. People with Mohawk haircuts, dreadlocks, in all colours from blonde to red, green, lilac and blue to black. Most of them were wearing studded bells like Sebastian, close-fitting ripped jeans, some wore ties with skulls or dog-collars with spikes. Boys and girls alike were wearing make-up, dark lid shadow or black eye liner. Sebastian's make-up was almost boring. He had just drawn small dark lines around his eyes. His blond hair stuck out in all directions. 

 

The flat was overcrowded, so he had to push and tried to make his way to the kitchen. Finally he got six beer cans that he balanced in his arms walking back. 

 

Allan had caught James in a talk about music. Sebastian heard them saying names like Sex Pistols, Stiff little Fingers, even Deep Purple and Metallica were discussed. Laughing, he broke into the talk, giving the other boys two beers before he took one for himself and put the rest between his feet on the ground. 

 

It was warm and tasted like fucking piss, but it was the effect he wanted. Alcohol was the only thing (except hitting people unconscious...) that made his head free. So he drank. Sometimes whiskey, vodka, gin and everything else that was bad for the liver and that you could fill in bottles circulated in the room. 

 

Sebastian found himself dancing to  _London Calling_ by The Clash. He smelled that someone was smoking weed, but at the moment he didn't want that. Just dancing. He fell against other bodies, but no one cared. No one fucking cared. So many people, so many humans. So loud, the music, the music. And he felt so fucking alive when black eyes met his. He was too drunk to find that strange. Giggled about the idea that Jimmy could be there, watching him drunk dancing. Probably it had been James. Sebastian's drunk mind just confused the two brothers. 

 

A girl rubbed her ass against his crotch, he grabbed her hips, pulling her closer while his lips laid down in her neck. She had long black eyes. He thought about Jimmy again. It had just been one quick kiss, but it had confused his mind.  _I'm not gay_ , he told himself when he got hard because of this lady. With one hand he opened her pants. She sighed. He didn't know her name, but it didn't matter. For a moment he looked around. James lay with another girl on the couch between her legs, like he had sat when he had tried to convince Sebastian to sleep with him. Said one bit his girl in the neck, leaving a mark while his hand slipped in her panties. Wet and hot. She moaned. Sebastian wouldn't mind to fuck her there on the ground, but then a hand lay down on his shoulder. Laughing, he turned his face. Just to look in the face of a guy with... much piercing and a body that could squash Sebastian without a lot work. 

  
“That's my girlfriend, asshole,” the guy growled.

Sebastian poked his tongue out to him. “I give a fuck who she is!”

The girl stepped to her boyfriend. “I... I thought you would...be that...” She almost cried. Bitch. 

Her boyfriend's fist met Sebastian's jaw, who stumbled back. He fell against a smaller body. The person wrapped his or her or whatever's arms around him. “Make a mess outta him for me, tiger,” a male voice whispered in his ear.

Sebastian grinned stupidly. Jimmy, this fucking brat.

 

Then the moment was over and Sebastian ran into the guy who punched him. The dude fell to the ground, the crowd around him stepped back, so the two boys had enough space. The other guy was confused by the impact, so Sebastian had time to punch him in the face. The bitch he had almost fucked before screamed, a few people laughed about the guy who let a slender teen bash him. But they went silent when the first blood came from the nose of the guy and Sebastian just didn't stop. Someone, from the voice Sebastian would say Allan, pulled him down from his rival. 

 

“Fuck, what are you fucking doing?”

And Sebastian felt himself grinning. “Giving him a lecture.” He looked around, hoping he could find Jimmy or another guy to punch.

Allan grabbed his face. “I want you to leave. You are drunk!”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off. I’ll go. Nice party, Allan.” With that he freed himself before he left the flat. 

 

The cold night air hit him. From one moment to the other he felt sober, but he still felt his heart bumping. Trying to breathe Sebastian pulled out his cigarettes. After he put on in his mouth, he tried to lit it, but the fucking lighter didn't work like it should. Maybe he was still drunk. Too drunk to light a cigarette. Fucking shit. 

 

“May I?” A flame appeared in the dark in front of him. Someone came closer.

 

Jimmy. A wicked smile lay on the lips of the younger boy while he lit Sebastian's cigarette. It was an almost caring gesture.

 

Sebastian took a drag while he watched Jimmy.

 

He looked different than in school and in the afternoon he had given Sebastian the job to punish this stupid guy. His black hair stuck out in all directions, just like Sebastian's, dark shadows from eye liner lay under his eyes and instead of the green Jacket of their uniform he was wearing a leather one. 

 

“You called me tiger,” Sebastian realized, after he had taken a drag of the cigarette.

“Did you like it?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Why did you call me so?”

Jim laughed. “I thought it would suit you.”

“Does it?”

“Very.”  
  


Sebastian took another drag, exhaled the waste smoke and wanted to take another one, but Jim grabbed the wrist from the hand that held the cigarette. Then the younger boy leaned forward and so did Sebastian until their lips met.

 

It was a fucking cliché, but Sebastian thought he felt butterflies in his stomach.


	7. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An afternoon with the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to nitininha for correcting the text, the growing gang and to you, reader. Have fun.

**Chapter 7: Family**

“Sebseb!”

Sebastian picked up his little cousin, who wrapped her small arms around his neck.

 

She had grown up during the time they hadn't seen each other. She had grown a lot. It made Sebastian proud, although he hadn't done anything to it, and at the same time he felt a little bit old. He let her go again, so Patrick, his aunt's husband could greet him, too. Patrick was a tall man with dark hair and dark eyes and an eternal smile on his lips. Sebastian felt welcome with him when Patrick hugged him.

 

“Good to have you here, boy,” he told the teenager, patting his shoulder.

 

His other cousins followed, hugs, a lot of hugs. Eoin introduced him his fiancé, a dark haired beauty in his age. She kissed Sebastian shyly on the cheeks, he congratulated the young couple before his aunt pushed him from behind. Kathy had picked him up from home with the car, so he hadn't had to walk the whole way. 

 

“Let him come in first, you rude huddle,” she yelled at her family, but Sebastian just laughed.

 

Fortunately her family listened to her and so they found themselves in the living room. Sebastian was sitting squeezed between his cousins. Mary sat on his lap, his cousin Grace, who was as old as him, sat to his left and to his right, sat Liam. Still, the living room seemed totally overcrowded with the seven kids of Patrick and Kathy, Eoin's fiancé (what was her name? Amelia?), Patrick and Kathy, of course, and Sebastian himself. His cousins, who hadn't seen him a while still needed time to acclimatize with him, but Patrick wasn't insecure, though they hadn't seen each other in this time either. 

 

“How's school, Sebastian?”

Before the boy could answer, his aunt jumped up. “I have forgotten the drinks, who wants what?”

 

Her nephew suspected her for being a genius, because all her kids wanted something different. Mary wanted orange juice, Eoin coffee, Liam tea, Grace and the twins cola, although the twins never got cola for good reasons, the quiet Bobby wanted water and Sebastian joined him, while Patrick and Amelia took coffee just like Eoin. Katherine didn't write anything down and when she left the room, Patrick asked again:  
  
“How is school? Is Irish hard?”

Sebastian shook his head. “I had a few private lessons with a friend, but I'm pretty good in languages, better than him to be honest. In French I give him private lessons. Math on the other hand, it... it's not that good.”

“Just like your mother,” Patrick laughed. 

 

The teenager didn't know much about his mother. His father had never told him much and Elizabeth could barely have remembered her. The only things Sebastian knew were that she was German, his father had met her while he had been based at Osnabrück in Germany, and that her name was Maria, his cousin Mary was named after her. It made him kind of nervous that Patrick had just told him another thing about her.

 

“She... she was good in French?” Sebastian asked, his voice weak. Mary leaned with her back against him, just like she could feel that something wasn't okay. And maybe she heard it in his voice.

“French, English, Spanish... She was a f-”

“Watch your tone in front of the kids.” Kathy stood with a tray with drinks at the door, rolling her eyes. “Excuse him, Sebastian, sometimes he is very rude.”

Sebastian shrugged. “I’ve heard worse words.”

“Yeah, I guess...” For a moment Kathy's smile vanished, but when she came to the table it appeared again, giving everyone their drinks without confusing who wanted what. She really was a fucking genius. “Anyway, Patrick is right; your mom was a genius in languages. She had been here just for a few months and she had already spoken like she was born here.”

“Did she... Did she like it here?”

“Well... she didn't like the peace walls...”

“Nobody likes the peace walls.”

“They keep us safe,” Eoin joined the discussion. His fiancé sat on his lap.

“They keep us captured,” Sebastian answered. “You are the best proof that we shouldn't fight, aren't you? You are the kid of an Irish man and a British woman!”

“Ma converted, she is Catholic now.”

“But when she met your father, she was a fucking -”

“Sebastian,” Kathy said in a warning voice.

“Sorry, aunt Kathy... but it doesn't change anything, you are born as a a prod, I'm a prod, if you have forgotten it, Eoin.”

“No, I didn't, but you aren't spoiled like the others. You even go to an Irish school.”

“Oh yeah, but the rest of us is all the same, right? Everyone is like my father.”

“That's not what I said.”

“You implied it! Do you know how tired I am of this discussion? Extremism comes from both sides!”

“Sebseb...” Mary's voice sounded like she would start to cry every moment. Not until then Sebastian had understood that he and Eoin were yelling at each other. 

He wrapped his arms around the four year-old, pulled her closer. “Sorry, my dear, we are just discussing politics, people become loud when they discuss about politics. It doesn't mean Eoin and I are mad at each other, right Eoin?”

His older cousin sighed. “Of course not. It's just very complicated.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Sebastian agreed nodding.

Mary also nodded slightly, still insecure, looking from her bigger brother to her cousin and back and then she reached for her juice. 

 

Sebastian watched her a while. She had the blond hair of the Morans and the dark eyes of the O'Maleys, well not as dark as Jim's. No eyes were like Jim's, he thought smiling. Of course his aunt noticed.

 

“And, Sebastian,” she said his name in this strange voice like a predator would ask his prey what it should eat first, “do you have a nice girl?”

Sebastian, who just wanted to take a sip from his water, almost swallowed at it. “G-girl?” 

 

In fact Jim was dictating his head. Even if he saw a nice looking girl, he wasn't interested... well, until he was very drunk, but that didn't count, did it? And even then Sebastian had thought more about Jim than about the stupid bitch. His jaw still hurt... 

 

“No,” he answered slowly, “I wouldn't say that.”


	8. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is late, so Sebastian takes his chance to wait in Jimmy's room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the moment come just every two days a chapter, because my beta is on a Europe trip for two weeks. Sorry. Still thanks to her, the gang and to you, reader/s. I hope you have fun with the chapter!

**Chapter 8: Caught**

Quietly, Sebastian stepped into the strange room, closing the door behind him. He was sure Jimmy had heard him, but still the younger boy laid on his bed, his eyes closed, seeming like he had forgotten the world because of the music. But Sebastian knew better. Jimmy never forgets the world around him; probably no one was as aware about his environment as Jimmy. 

 

In fact, the older boy had come because of James, who needed private lessons in French (Jimmy didn't want help), but James wasn't home. Officially he was “at a friend”. Truth was, James was at his girlfriend, well, he was somewhere in Belfast with his girlfriend because she was a Protestant like Sebastian and both families (the Moriartys and her parents) wouldn't be happy about their relationship. So Sebastian hadn't said anything about it in front of James' parents, but had followed the advice of Mrs Moriarty to look for Jim. 

 

So he stood there now, watching the younger boy on his bed. The first two buttons of Jim's white shirt were unbuttoned, at the hip it was slipped above, so Sebastian could see the pale skin under it. He wasn't sure if the younger boy did it on purpose. Probably he had known about the appointment of his brother and his friend, also he always knew when James left the house, so Sebastian was pretty sure that the little fucker posed for him. 

 

So he climbed on the bed, over Jim, but didn't sit down. The smaller boy smiled wickedly like always.

 

“What are you listening?” Sebastian asked. He didn't know the song... or however people called it in classical music.

“La gazza ladra,” Jim explained without opening his eyes, “written by Gioachino Antonio Rossini. In English it's _The thieving magpie_.” 

“ _La Pie voleuse_.”

“Hmm, thank you, but I'm not the one who needs help in French.”

“No, you don't, because you are a fucking genius.”

“Exactly, so you can't seduce me with French.”

“It was worth the try.”

Jimmy opened his eyes, black, cold stones. Then he turned around, so Sebastian lay under him now. 

“Magpie,” the older boy whispered. “It fits you, you are so black and white, can I call you _magpie_ , Jimmy?”

“The magpie and the tiger? What a crazy combination,” Jimmy laughed. “But I could like it... It's not so... ordinary.”

“Just like you.”

Jimmy smiled. “Bootlicker.”

“Just for you.”

Playfully, Jimmy slapped him on the chest before he climbed down from him. “I'm sorry my brother stood you up,” he mumbled while he was looking through his CD-collection. 

“Well, it gives me the chance to see your room.”

 

While James' room was full of posters and slogans from the punk scene, Jimmy's was more basic. Bed, desk, chair, wardrobe, bookshelf and a stereo with his CDs. Sebastian threw his legs over the edge of the bed and walked to the shelf. Jimmy ignored him, but that was okay, Jimmy ignored him often. 

 

Most books in the shelf Sebastian wouldn't even understand if he skipped two classes. Jimmy was very interested in Mathematics, had a lot of books about it. Sometimes, when class was too boring for him, he wrote down mathematical blah. Sebastian just knew it because James had stolen one of Jim's papers once. James could be a real pain in the ass when it was about Jimmy. 

 

Isaac Newton, Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, Stefan Banach, and less prominent names. One book was from a V. Holmes for example. Probably a genius like Jim. 

 

“How are you in Mathematics, Sebby?” Jimmy asked after a while. 

Sebastian, who had lost himself in his own mind, looked confused at Jimmy. “What? Why?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Because you wanna be a sniper in the army.”

“Holy fuck, from where... seriously, Jimmy!” 

The younger boy just smiled. “Doesn't matter. Oh, I think I hear my brother.”

 

He turned around to the door, which opened in that exact that moment. James, almost one head taller than his little brother, looked from said one to Sebastian and then back frowning.

 

“Ma said he is here.”

“You see she was right, dear brother.” 

 

The problem with James and Jimmy was that Jimmy had always gotten everything, but never wanted anything except occupying his brain. James had never gotten anything, but he always fought for the love of their parents. It didn't make them just different, it made them rivals. And suddenly Sebastian found himself between the fronts. James was after all his friend. Jimmy... Sebastian wasn't sure that he wanted to think what Jimmy was for him. It could break his heart, and he wanted to avoid that. 

 

“Okay, if you both wanna fight without me,” Sebastian told them, pushing past Jimmy, but Jimmy grabbed his wrist. He turned around automatically. “What?”

“Help him with French, you can come back tomorrow to me and we'll do something for Mathematics.”

 

Before Sebastian could react, Jimmy leaned forward and kissed him. Sebastian's face went hot and when he turned around he looked into James’ shocked face, but just for a second. Then James grabbed Sebastian at his scruff, pulling him out of the room to his own, where James pushed Sebastian on the ground before he slammed his door. Like a giant he towered about Sebastian.

 

“Are you gay now? Fucking my little brother? He is just 13, Sebastian! You should let him alone with your perversion.”

Sebastian frowned. “He kissed me first, okay?! Also, I'm not fucking him! Of course, I don't fuck him, what do you think of me?”

“I don't know! You could manipulate him -”

“Like you manipulated me this one time.” Sebastian's voice was croaky, he looked away from James. He sat up, pulled up his knees while he was hiding his face with one hand.

James stared at him, he could feel it. “Just because I like girls  _and_ boys, it doesn't mean that I'm fucking with Jimmy, you know? It's not about fucking.”

“Don't you dare to tell me it's about love.”

Sebastian shrugged. “No, not really.” But it was. It fucking was about love and he knew it. Still the lie came easy on his lips. “He's just fascinating. And I like him. I also like you. What is wrong with that?”

No reply.

Sighing Sebastian rubbed his face. Fortunately he hadn't started to cry. He almost had. “Are we working on your French now?”

James sighed and sat down in front of him.


	9. Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Christmas is awesome, thinks Sebastian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for every mistake in the Irish part. I can't speak Irish and I don't know any person, who can, so I used a translator. The translation for the Irish part is in the notes at the end.   
> Thanks goes to nitininha, my beta, the gang from the chat and to you my dear reader. I hope you have fun.

**Chapter 9: Air**

Winter came and with winter Christmas. The day before, the 25 th  December  Sebastian had celebrated with his aunt and her family. They had eaten turkey with prune and apples and plum pudding. Sebastian had even had his own stocking with money and sweets. A tradition that Kathy had brought in the family was watching the speech of the queen at 3 o'clock pm, although their kids grew up as Irish people, she insisted on it. Eoin was the only one who had complained. Sebastian himself hadn't listened, he had played with Mary. It had been a great, domestic Christmas. 

 

Today, at Boxing Day, he visited the Moriartys to celebrate Day of the Wren, also known as Saint Stephen’s Day. It was an Irish tradition, kids with birds on sticks or in cages went from door to door, sang for the people and collected money or sweets. Of course all Moriarty-kids were too old, but still it was planned to be a nice little day with the family. And Sebastian. 

 

It had been Mrs Moriarty’s idea. If Sebastian had believed in something else as Jim, he would have thanked God for this woman. So he just enjoyed her caring hand when she ruffled his hair. But staying the day at the Moriarty home wasn't the best part. It was that Sebastian could sleep there. While James had wanted to sleep alone in his small bed, Jimmy hadn't had a problem with Sebastian in his bed. God, James had looked at both of them like he had wanted to kill them. 

 

More than one year Sebastian went to the Coláiste Feirste now. He wasn't nervous anymore when he went over the streets of the Falls Street neighbourhood. In fact he felt like he belonged there, the biggest part of his family was Irish-Catholic and he was there most of his time. It was just... unfair that he was born in the wrong neighbourhood!

 

Although he didn't have to fear the people around him, he ran to the Moriartys’ house. 

 

“Sebastian, dia duit” Mrs Moriarty greeted him from the kitchen with a smile.

“Dia duit, Bean Moriarty,” he called in the room while he was taking off his shoes. Then he walked into the living room. “Dia duit, an tUasal Moriarty, James, Jimmy.”

“Dia duit, Sebastian,” Janine smiled at him while the others greeted less enthusiastically. 

 

Jimmy sat at his piano, smiling at Sebastian, while his brother and his father were busy with playing chess, so maybe it wasn't meant rude. The Protestant teenager walked to Jimmy, sat down next to him at the music stool. Janine sat down next to the stool on the ground, so he could ruffle her hair fondly, while he turned his attention to Jimmy. 

 

He was wearing his white Sunday-shirt because they had been in the church before Sebastian had come. Sometimes Sebastian couldn't believe that he had seen him in a leather jacket once. 

 

“What are you playing?” He asked the younger boy, looking at the notes.

“Bach of course,” James mumbled, but then Sebastian turned his head to look at him, Mr Moriarty looked at his oldest son, tipping at the chess board.

“Gaeilge, buachaillí,” Mr Moriarty ordered.

“Tá brón orm,” both teenagers answered.

Jimmy still smiled. “Tá mé ag imirt Aeir, píosa Johann Sebastian”, at the second name of the composer Jimmy winked at Sebastian, who almost blushed, “Bach ar Orchestral Suite Uimh 3.” 

 

Without another word, he started to play again. Sebastian watched his hands while he was playing. They were small hands, strong, but small. Air was a slow, melancholic song. Sebastian's eyes wandered from Jimmy's hands to his face, which didn't show any emotion. The black eyes were like black holes and Sebastian could just think about them looking at him. 

 

~Φ~

 

Jimmy was a pain in the ass. Really. After the dinner he had insisted that they could learn Math. Sebastian had been stupid enough to believe it had meant an hour, maybe two, but now they sat above numbers and letters and signs for at least four hours! Though all feelings Sebastian had for Jimmy he wished he could wrap his hands around his throat and then...!  
  
“I can hear you thinking, forgot?” Jimmy didn't look up. 

While Sebastian was working at exercises they wouldn't need until April, Jimmy made some mathematical arguments. He had started with an empty page, now he used the back. Sebastian was very sure he couldn't understand one word. “Jimmy, I need a break. Even better, I need sleep.”

His friend looked almost surprised. “Oh,” he made abstractedly, “how late is it?”

“11 o'clock at least.”

“Really? Yeah, you should go to bed then, I just -”

Sebastian pointed at the dark rings under Jimmy's eye. “Do they come from this stuff? Aren't you sleeping enough, because you’re working on...  _Math_ .”

“I like Mathematics, and?”

“Do you know how mental this is?” Sebastian asked sighing, while he put his own things together. 

“It's not mental.”

“Of course it is. Come to bed with me.”

Jimmy frowned and for a moment Sebastian thought, he had said something wrong, but then Jimmy's face softened. “Okay, okay.” 

 

He got up from the bed, where he had sat. For the ground sitting Sebastian he had looked like a king. Even now Sebastian had to look up at the 14 years old, who was in fact smaller than him. With big steps, Jimmy walked to his wardrobe. The older boy watched him; he couldn't help himself that his eyes wandered to the butt still hid by the fabric of suit pants. Jimmy looked good on suits, he thought, although he usually hated this kind of clothes. Maybe it was just Jimmy, who could wear whatever he wanted and Sebastian would still like it. 

 

“They should call the day _the Day of the Magpie_ ,” Sebastian suggested. 

Jim, who stood to his right now, turned his head. “You are possessed, Moran.”

“I know,” the taller boy replied simply.

 

Now Jim got out his pyjama for the night. A simple, dark blue one. Meanwhile Sebastian grabbed his old man's ex army bag, in which he had his own clothes. He had never been the guy for pyjamas (not to mention that his father didn't buy him some), so he just slept in underwear and a too big t-shirt of the band Metallica today. While he got dressed, he caught himself how he watched Jimmy now and then, who was still unbuttoning his shirt. 

 

“I'll have sex with you one day, I hope you know that,” Jimmy announced like it was nothing while he finally took of the shirt and revealed pale skin under it.

“W-What?”

“Don't pretend you are stupid, tiger. You heard me.”

“B-But... you are just 14.”

Jimmy, who had turned his face to him, answered: “I said  _one day_ , not  _today_ , Sebastian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Dia duit" = "Hello"  
> "Bean Moriarty" = "Mrs Moriarty"  
> "an tUasal Moriarty" = "Mr Moriarty"  
> “Gaeilge, buachaillí” = "Irish, boys!"  
> "“Tá brón orm” = "Sorry."  
> “Tá mé ag imirt Aeir, píosa Johann Sebastian Bach ar Orchestral Suite Uimh 3.” = “I'm playing Air, a piece of Johann Sebastian Bach's Orchestral Suite No. 3.”


	10. Ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys make plans for the summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't adopt the boys as role models. Not just because the violent part... but especially in the violent part.   
> Thanks to nitininha for correcting the text, to the gang, because you are still awesome and to all the readers.

**Chapter 10: Ideas**

The smaller body jerked. Sebastian dug his fingers in the neck, pressing it down. Cold water splashed against his face and his clothes while the boy tried to fight back. The Protestant looked at Jimmy, who was watching him with this half bored and half absent look he had sometimes. Jimmy nodded and Sebastian pulled out the head of the boy of the bucket with water. Slowly Jimmy walked to them, just like a cat who had seen a little bird it could hunt. 

 

“When will I get my money?” He asked the shaking boy. What was his name? Gavin? Sebastian didn't remember.

“I... I... I...”

“Answer probably,” Sebastian ordered. He stood close to the boy so he could feel his presence. 

“I... I will have it next week.”

“Good,” Jimmy smiled. “And what are you telling your parents about your wet clothes?”

“That... that I and a... a few friends made a water fight.”

 

Luckily it was warm enough for this excuse. It was May, the sun shined bright, the temperature was 30 degrees Celsius. So it had been a refresher for Sebastian when the cold water drops had met his skin. Now he wiped them from his face, still grinning from the adrenalin. 

 

“You can go now,” he whispered in the shaking guy’s ear, who straightened himself automatically before he ran away. Sebastian watched him running, but then he felt Jimmy's presence next to his body. He turned his attention to the younger boy directly.

“Your eyes are glancing,” Jimmy told him in a sweet, quiet voice.

Sebastian shrugged. “I love it when your plans are going well.”

“My plans are always going well.”

“True.” 

 

Just for a moment the two boys grinned at each other before Jimmy put a hand in Sebastian's neck to pull him down to him. They kissed roughly with teeth and tongue. Sebastian found himself pinned against the wall of the alley they had used, because no one would come here at a Saturday at this time. His hands grabbed Jimmy's face automatically to keep it close. Their crotches rubbed against each other and Sebastian could feel that Jimmy was as hard as he was. Not that it would mean, they would have sex. They still hadn't had. Sometimes Sebastian got frustrated about it, but to be honest Jim was still so young, wasn't he? Just 14 years old, 15 in October, while Sebastian and James had turned 16 in the last month. It was a big difference in their age, but to be fair Jimmy wasn't like other boys in his age. In fact Jimmy was like no one Sebastian had ever met before. 

  
“You are not good for me,” Sebastian whispered into the kiss.

“My brother thinks it's otherwise.”

They separated their lips to laugh. “If he just knew,” said the older boy.

“He would kill us both.” 

“Probably he would.”

“Do you have any plans for the afternoon?”

“Actually I have.”

Jimmy raised a brow about the snappy tone of Sebastian.

 

Since the beginning of this school year the Moriarty-brothers went pretty mad to make their O-level as good as possible. Well, Jimmy seemed more to worry about Sebastian's O-level (especially in Mathematics, although Sebastian got very good with his help), while James learned French like he was possessed or something. Which meant both of them didn't allow Sebastian his freedom. Today was the first day in weeks that he wanted to do what he wanted.

 

“You are pissed.”

“...and tired. I need a free day, Jimmy, really.”

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. What are you planning?”

“Eh,” Sebastian was still confused, because he had thought it wouldn't be that easy, “meeting a few friends in an old fabric building in my neighbourhood. You know, drinking, smoking, talking, all this shit.”

“Can I join you?”

“You... wanna join us?”

“Yeah.”

“Eh... okay.”

“Good.”

“Then... do your parents know?”

“They think I learn with you.”

“Of course they think that.”

Jimmy smiled.

 

~Φ~

 

Sebastian sat on the ground, Jimmy next to him, who took his first sip from a bottle of gin. The face he made was hilarious, so Sebastian laughed when he took the bottle from the younger boy's hand. A little voice in his head told him he shouldn't let him drink, but fact was that he had given a fuck when he was 14 as well. Not that he was allowed to drink now. Fucking law. 

 

“Hey, I thought after you and James will make your O-levels we could go camping,” Allan suggested. He leaned against a pillar that held the roof. “Getting Belfast's air out of the lungs, far away from these shitty walls.”

“You mean the shitty walls you just sprayed  _All cops are bastards_ on,” Kevin joined the discussion. He had finished his O-levels last year and worked now. 

“Exactly these shitty walls.”

Sebastian felt that Jimmy leaned his head on his shoulder. The other boys didn't say anything about it, so he thought it would be better not to mention it either. “But the idea is good. I have never left Belfast.”

The looks he got were pretty strange. “You... have never left Belfast?” Billy with the red Mohawk haircut asked.

Even Jimmy looked at Sebastian, he could feel it. “Never had the chance, and?”

“It's a little bit strange,” Allan mumbled. 

“Na, it's not.”

“It is,” Jimmy agreed. “Even I have left Belfast to drive to the Republic with my family.”

Billy laughed. “So we have to camp. And let it just be to get Sebby here outta Belfast.”

“Great, I still have a tent from the last trip. Jimmy, will you join us?”

“If my parents allow, of course. But shouldn't be a problem, if James comes with you.” He took another sip from the bottle. Still he didn't look like the alcohol agreed with him. Also his cheeks became a little bit red from it. It was kind of cute. 

 

Sebastian found himself stroking Jimmy's hair. The younger boy hummed, closing his eyes, while Sebastian took the bottle away from him again just to take a sip himself. The alcohol burnt in his throat and made him feel warmer inside. 

 

Camping sounded really nice. Really nice indeed. 


End file.
